My favorite cookie is sugar
My family made them every Christmas
An assembly line of siblings
One with the base color of frosting
One with the secondary color
One with the sprinkles
One with nothing

I wasn’t actually allowed to help make the cookies
Maybe I could drop them
Maybe I didn’t wash my hands
Maybe I would put too much stuff on
But I did get to watch them
Come out of the oven
And then to the cooling racks

But they tasted great
Just the right hardness
And frosting to cookie ratio
And a hint of lemon
At least that’s what my sisters say

I wasn’t actually allowed to eat them
They were for friends and family
For our aunt and uncle in Florida
And our cousins in Chicago
And my sisters right next to me

They always got to eat the broken ones
After all was said and done
I always wondered who broke them
If not me.